


Ones and Zeroes

by jezebel



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Bruises, Consent Issues, Dubious Consent, Kink Meme, M/M, Slavery, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 21:05:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jezebel/pseuds/jezebel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark never thought about owning slaves, although everyone did it, he hadn't thought of having one of his own until he met Eduardo.</p><p>(Written for TSN Kink-Meme)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mark

Despite Chris' protestations, Mark had begrudgingly accepted the use of slaves in the Facebook offices as a means to an end. They could not expect the brightest and best coders, programmers, and business minds to be distracted by menial tasks that could easily be undertaken by an unpaid slave. It made business sense to ensure the smooth running of the office with a small team of indentured workers who could undertake cleaning and manual work - every other office or business in America was serviced by menial slaves. Even if Chris thought a forward thinking Web 2.0 company could do without their services Mark was not about to ask a paid employee to clean toilets or empty trash cans.

During the day, when the office was filled with the commotion of running a billion dollar company, the slave population of Facebook largely melted into the background. It was only later on, after anyone that had somewhere to be had left, that Mark noticed their presence a little more. Even then the slaves, after years of training, went largely unnoticed and Mark liked it because, like tonight, it gave him the solitude to get his work done.

As he worked through a particularly difficult piece of code for the newsfeed, Mark's attention was pulled from his screen by a slight shift outside his window. It was not unusual to see the slaves working this late as they largely stayed out of the offices during the day, but what was strange was the way the particular slave flinched slightly as he moved. Slave training taught them to be light in step and most slaves walked with a soft shuffle, but this one had a more pronounced limp than Mark was used to. 

Mark tried to turn back to his coding, but the slave had distracted him and he had lost his train of thought, thinking this may be a good time to take a break he stood and headed to the fridge in his office, only to be distracted again by a small noise.

Turning on instinct Mark saw that the slave had fallen heavily against the desk he had been cleaning and looked winded.

"Are you okay?" Mark called, "Do I need to call the on call supervisor?"

The slave's back stiffened and he fell to his knees, ignoring the pain from his fall and immediately taking the prostrate position that Mark had seen others assume for punishment. The slave's posture shifted slightly as he re-positioned himself, as if the correct stance was something Mark might comment on.

“Forgive me, Sir, I did not realise there was anyone here. I know better than to be a disruption,” The slave said, his tone soft from infrequent use. “I accept whatever punishment you deem necessary to correct my behaviour.”

Mark, who rarely dealt with slaves, was not sure how to address the slave and was not comfortable speaking to someone that only made eye contact with the floor.

“No need for punishments, I was away from my desk to take a break anyway,” Mark replied. He wanted to ask the slave to look at him when he spoke to him but was not sure it was appropriate. “Carry on with what you were doing.” He continued when it was clear the slave would not move without permission.

The slave stood and it was almost fluid, but there was a slight tension as he lowered his head. Mark reached out impulsively and tugged down the collar of the boy’s standard grey uniform shirt. The boy flinched as Mark exposed his collar and the slightly raised welts that were causing him pain.

“How did this happen?” Mark asked.

“Master Parker felt I required correction,” the slave responded evenly, his eyes never rising from the floor. There was no emotion in his voice as he answered, none of the anger that Mark felt welling inside him.

“Why?”

“I failed to carry out my duties.”

“And so he beat you?” Mark asked, the revulsion clear in his tone.

“I deserved to be punished.” The boy said, his tone so matter of fact that Mark felt he truly believed the words as he spoke them.

“And do you work for Sean Parker often?” Mark continued.

“I was re-assigned after my punishment, Sir.” The boy replied, and Mark was sure there was a tone of regret in his voice. As if serving Sean was an honour, it made Mark feel slightly sick and lowered his opinion of Sean. He wanted to ask if the boy had liked working for Sean, if this was worse compared with the work he had been doing but that led him to a slight ill feeling as he wondered just what duties it was that Sean, who rarely did any work at the office, required of him.

“Well, I won’t keep you from your new duties,” Mark replied. 

The slave nodded as Mark released his shirt collar and picked up the cleaning supplies he had dropped previously.

“What is your name?” Mark surprising himself by asking. This was the longest exchange he had with any of the slaves, possibly longer than the conversations he had with many of his staff and he realised that he didn’t even know who the boy was.

“Eduardo, Sir.” The slave responded.

“Well, thank you, Eduardo,” Mark said. The slave looked up at that, startled by the thanks before remembering his place. His head fell again and he turned his back, returning to his task.

Mark continued on to the kitchen, grabbing a can of redbull before heading back to his code.

He turned his computer off five minutes later when it was clear that he would not fix this, his mind was too busy trying to find a brief glimpse of humanity in the haunted brown eyes that remained with him all the way back to his condo.

***

Mark was not used to anything interrupting his concentration when he was coding but he had barely managed to write two or three lines of code since the night he had seen the young slave fall. The dark brown eyes haunted him, burned into his mind as he tried to code or read through the piles of papers that his legal team put in front of him.

The role of CEO had a large number of tasks, often tedious, and as he sat in yet another meeting (the papers in front of him told him it was marketing) he couldn’t help but wonder what Eduardo was doing. He doubted that the slave sat in on many meetings, probably something basic but equally as mind-numbing.

“What do you think, Mark?”

Mark looked up and saw that the room was silent, everyone looking to him for an answer to whatever it was they were asking. Apparently his opinion mattered on a lot of subjects now, as if making a billion dollars suddenly gave him insight into whether or not the facebook blue pantone should be used on the new investors’ brochure or if they should go with a bolder colour tone.

“I think,” Mark said as he stood and gathered his laptop, “that I have better things to do, and I’m paying you to make these decisions.” 

***

Mark was sitting in his office, pretending to check his e-mails when Chris found him. Mark had been expecting the visit, along with the lecture on responsible CEO behaviour, since he walked out of the marketing meeting. It surprised him that it had taken Chris this long to find him.

“Mark,” Chris started as he shut the door. “You can’t just walk out of meetings when you feel like it.”

“Actually, I can.”

“No, Mark…” 

“Yes, I know - “with great power, comes great responsibility.””

Chris sighed as he moved to perch on the edge of Mark’s desk. Chris, ever the debate team captain, always stood to give lectures but when he sat down Mark knew he was about to impart something more personal.

“What is up with you lately?” Chris asked.

Mark shrugged, as he turned slightly away from the laptop and away from Chris. 

He hoped that would be it; that Chris would take the hint and leave him to his musings, but Chris reached out and placed a comforting hand on Mark’s now slumped shoulder.

“Mark,” Chris started. “Have you thought about seeing someone, getting some help?”

Mark took a breath, ready to say that he didn’t need psychiatric care but then the words filtered through and a thought struck him.

“I’ve been thinking about getting a slave.”

Chris’ hand dropped away from his shoulder and Mark turned at the loss of contact, Chris looked appalled by the idea. Mark knew Chris’ aversion to slavery but this was the first time they had visited the topic in anything but an abstract conversation over beers.

“Just someone to help out at the house, maybe keep things in order when I’m there.”

“Mark, you know how I feel about that,” Chris replied. “I don’t think it’s the answer to go out and buy someone to make you feel better about yourself.”

“Well, if it is the purchase that bothers you, I’m sure we have plenty here at Facebook that could be reassigned.”

Chris shook his head, knowing that there was no arguing with Mark when he got an idea into his head. Mark knew he was right, and for the first time in three days he felt a weight lifted from his shoulders as he considered how the slave in question might react when he heard the news.


	2. Eduardo

Eduardo swallowed his fear and tried not to let it develop into full panic as he stood outside the daytime supervisor’s office. He had been summoned for the second time in a week and knew that he must be in trouble to be called away from his work. Perhaps the man who had let him get away with disturbing him had changed his mind. Eduardo had been thinking of the strange behaviour over the last few days and had not trusted this kindness would be without consequence, now it appeared he would pay for not begging for his punishment on the day.

The door opened and Eduardo saw his supervisor standing at the door.

“Come in, Eduardo.” He said, ushering Eduardo into the room. 

Eduardo stepped into the office, trying not to flinch when he heard the click of the door.

“It appears that you have made quite an impression upstairs.”

Eduardo paused, not sure if he should apologise or continue listening to his supervisor.

“You’ve been requested for a personal assignment.”

Eduardo bit his lip, trying not to ask the question that was on his mind. He may be just a slave but he knew better than to question his superiors.

“Apparently your dalliance with Mr. Parker has not deterred the other senior management team from requesting your time. You must try not to embarrass yourself this time.” He continued.

“Yes, sir.” Eduardo said, when he realised that the supervisor was not going to add anymore.

“You’ve been given a second chance here, Eduardo. You don’t want to mess this up.”

“No, sir.”

The supervisor sighed. 

Eduardo looked up briefly, breaking his stance to look at him. He had never seen the look of sympathy before, but the older man almost looked as if he felt sorry for Eduardo. Eduardo knew that it must be pity for the fact that he was not a good slave rather than any type of empathy as the man had a good position and did not need to feel anything for Eduardo’s role.

“The thing you have to realise is that you have youth on your side, at least for the moment.” The supervisor said, as he shifted in his chair. “But that won’t last forever. So you need to make the most of this time, and if possible find a position for yourself above that which you have been cast into. I didn’t start out as an overseer without some experience as a slave.”

This surprised Eduardo, but he was used to guarding his expression and remained stoic.

“You have a window of opportunity here to make something of your life. A small amount of sacrifice now will benefit you greatly in the future.”

“Thank you, sir.” Eduardo said, thinking that he knew what sort of sacrifice might be required. “I will try to make the most of this opportunity.”

“Well, go and pack your things. I’ll have transportation arranged for your new assignment.”

“Transportation, sir?” Eduardo asked. He was not sure where he would be going for this assignment. He had assumed it would be duties within the Facebook offices as it had been with Master Parker.

“Yes, Eduardo.” The supervisor replied, trying not to sound too exasperated though he obviously thought Eduardo naïve. “It is a personal assignment, that means you will be required to work from his home. Now go and pack your things, it is important that you don’t mess this up.”

Eduardo nodded, and headed back toward the dormitories. Any doubt about the type of assignment was dispelled by the last words. Every slave knew what was expected of a personal or house slave and whilst it could bring great reward it would come at a personal price.

***

The house was large, larger than any Eduardo had ever seen, and the only break in the surrounding wall was the large security gate through which they had entered. Eduardo was not sure who it was he would be serving here, but they were clearly security conscious. The high walls and locked gates were clearly designed for privacy and inside the walls, tall hedges ensured that no one could see into the property. It was obviously the residence of someone who was used to being isolated and Eduardo wondered what they would want with a slave.

A brief shiver ran down his spine as Eduardo recalled some of the warning stories he had heard as a younger slave from overseers hoping to keep the unruly in place. There were stories of mansion houses where people paid to punish the wicked, the slaves that were not able to do anything right and also people that kept slaves merely for punishment. Eduardo knew that slave owners existed who thought that they had paid to own a slave and could do anything with them or to them – he just never thought that he might end up being one of them.

The transport van pulled around to the side of the building, away from the front of the house and to the slave/delivery entrance. In most commercial buildings these entrances were hidden from view, but few domestic properties were big enough to have more than one entrance. The fact this house had a separate entryway spoke to the wealth of the owner.

"Out!" The driver ordered, his assistant jumped out of the passenger door and slid open the back of the van. Eduardo, who was shackled for security, did his best to shuffle forward and bent to exit. He stepped foot outside the van, the first time he had been outside the Facebook headquarters in weeks, and took in the full scope of the estate he would be staying at.

"You won't need these here," the assistant said, rattling his keys as he undid the manacles and fetters that hobbled Eduardo. "I'm sure your new Master will have something special planned for a pretty boy like you."

Eduardo tried hard not to read too much into the comment, his experience was that those who worked on the edges of slave society didn't have a real understanding of how things worked. They assumed the worst and lewdest stories that they had heard were true when in most cases slaves were used for mundane and menial work that other, better, people were too important to do.

"Yeah, pretty boy like you won't need to go far from the bedroom," the man leered.

He tried the door to the slave entrance, surprised when it didn't open and then looked to the driver for help.

"Just leave him," The driver said. "Boy won't get far even if he decides to run."

The assistant looked at his watch, erring only for a moment before he headed back toward the van.

"You be good, boy." He said. "I've heard Zuck is a bit of a sadist from the people that work for him, so I reckon he'll be worse for those he doesn't actually have to be civil with."

And with that ominous warning, they left Eduardo alone on the porch of what he supposed was his new house. 

***


	3. Mark

Mark had almost forgotten the slave was due to arrive that night, but he had a bright pink post it in the middle of his laptop screen to remind him when he returned from his meeting. Mark’s assistant Belle appeared to have a penchant for cutesy stationery and liked to spread her glitter and neon shades into his office in an attempt to brighten the otherwise Spartan environment. He had often thought that she was in league with Chris, and this note was just further proof.

“Don’t forget your new ‘helper’ arrives tonight :)”

Helper. 

Mark snorted at that. 

Belle was always trying to put a positive spin on things (which made her useful as an assistant for a man known for being a cynical asshole) but this was definitely Chris’ influence. 

Chris, the abolitionist, had barely spoken with Mark since his announcement that he was thinking about transferring a Facebook slave to his personal home and Mark was sure that the gawker article that appeared earlier in the day was an indication of Chris’ feelings. 

The note, albeit annoying, did remind Mark to leave the office at a reasonable time that evening. He pulled up outside his house at just after eight that night and was surprised to see the young man patiently waiting at the side of the house.

“Eduardo?” Mark called, startling the young man who jogged over toward him and knelt before Mark could stop him. 

Eduardo had taken the same penitent position that Mark remembered form the office, not caring for his knees as he knelt on the hard driveway.

“Master,” Eduardo said, his eyes downcast as he looked at Mark’s feet.

“What were you doing around there?” Mark asked curiously.

“Forgive me, Master. I was told to wait at the slave entrance for you, Master.”

“Slave entrance?” Mark asked, surprised. He had never thought about the rear entry to the kitchen as anything but a useful door for deliveries (and on one memorable occasion for a sneaky exit from one of his own parties). 

Eduardo, from the small amount of his expression that Mark could see, looked nervous and Mark wondered what it must be like in his situation. 

“Well, I’m here now, perhaps we should go inside.”

“Yes, Master.” Eduardo said, making not attempt to stand.

“You should probably follow me,” Mark prompted, worried for a moment that the boy would expect to stay in the driveway but at Mark’s words Eduardo stood and started to move behind him as he walked to the house. It shocked Mark as he realised that Eduardo had been trained to await his Master’s orders. 

“It’s not much,” Mark said, feeling nervous as he entered and tried to see the house through someone else’s eyes. Logically he knew that he didn’t have to explain himself to a slave, but there didn’t seem to be anything logical or rational about this situation now that he was in it.

“I’m not really here all that often, I spend a lot of time at the office and it’s just really a place to rest my head.” Mark continued, unsure of why he felt so nervous.

Eduardo remained silent. 

Mark wondered if he would only respond to direct questions. As if he too felt the awkward silence, Mark was surprised when Eduardo spoke softly.

“You have a beautiful home, Master.” Eduardo said.

“I think you’ll fit in well here,” Mark said, and only after he had headed toward the Kitchen did he realise that he had implied that Eduardo was beautiful.

***

Mark's first evening as a slave owner was awkward. 

After leaving Eduardo in the kitchen, Mark had grabbed a can of red bull and the half open pack of red vines and then headed to his study to code; ignoring Eduardo in the process. 

Mark tried to concentrate on the updates for the newsfeed, staring at the lines of code that he wanted to improve, but he was acutely aware of the presence of another person in his home and it made him feel anxious. 

There was a part of him that felt altruistic for transitioning Eduardo into his home, but another part of him wondered if he had made a mistake. Mark was rarely at home and when he was he didn't keep regular hours or eat regular meals. Having someone else around might help, especially if their sole purpose was to make his life easier, but it might also just add to the already messy and chaotic situation that he lived in.

Mark coded well into the night, stopping only as he fell asleep at his desk and heading straight to bed.

He slept fitfully and was late waking for a meeting the following morning. He left the house, as he often did, without breakfast.

It was only as he stepped into his office that he realised that he had not seen or spoken with Eduardo that morning - he vowed to try and deal with the issue when he returned that night.

***


	4. Eduardo

Eduardo waited patiently in the kitchen after his Master left. He assumed that his Master was a busy man, but he had not left any orders and Eduardo was sure that he would return when he needed him.

The words from the transportation guard made him worry what it might be that his Master required a slave for and though he tried to push them away he couldn't help but hear the sneer as the man said pretty boy like you won't need to go far from the bedroom.

Eduardo had little experience in that area but he hoped he would make his master glad he had chosen him, he certainly didn't want the man to regret his decision. The driver had also said that his Master was a sadist and whilst Eduardo had little experience as a personal slave he knew that a Master had a right to do anything he wanted to his property.

As the clock in the kitchen ticked past first minutes and then hours Eduardo started to wonder if his Master had forgotten him. He knew that it was not his right to presume, but he would have hoped his Master would have use for him. Eduardo knew that slaves only tended to remain in a home as long as they remained useful. When Eduardo had told his Master that he had a beautiful home he had meant it; it was the nicest house he had ever been allowed into and if the overseer was right then this was his one chance to make something more of his life.

His Master was obviously a busy man and maybe there had been an emergency at work. His Master was obviously part of the senior management team, as Master Parker had been, but he apparently worked harder than Master Parker at his job. Eduardo knew that he should not speculate about his Master's needs but as the hours passed and he was not called upon he realised that this was his life now. There was no overseer here that he had met, no supervisors to tell him what to do and he would have to wait on his master for instruction.

Late into the night, cold and tired, Eduardo made the first decision of his new assignment when he found a corner in the kitchen and curled up to sleep. He knew that it might mean facing his Master's wrath if he were caught sleeping without permission, but it had been a calculated risk he would have to take to be ready the next day. Eduardo reasoned that he could be up before his Master and be waiting for instruction.

Eduardo must have been tired though as he did not hear his master rise later that morning, nor did he hear anyone call for him to help with his Master's morning ablutions. The sun was high in the sky when Eduardo woke the next morning, he returned to his position in the kitchen to wait stopping only to take a small drink from the faucet so that he would not pass out. He tried to ignore the gnawing hunger he felt in his stomach; he knew better than to take food without permission but water was allowed unless expressly forbidden as punishment.

Eduardo remained in the kitchen for the rest of the morning as he waited patiently. He tried to recall his lessons from previous instructors and supervisors about correct protocols and positions; wanting to be ready for anything his Master required of him should he call. It was not clear if his Master had left for the office or continued to work in his house but he obviously had no need of Eduardo yet.

Eduardo was still waiting in the Kitchen just after lunch when he heard a small click as the outer door to the slave entrance opened and a strange man appeared at the door.

***

"Sir?" Eduardo asked, as he looked up from his kneeling position into the eyes of an overseer. He wondered if this man had been sent to collect him; he tried to understand how he might have displeased his Master in such a short space of time.

"Come one, you two."

He held the door open and two young slaves entered carrying a large number of items including mops and buckets; Eduardo assumed that his Master must have a cleaning crew that came whilst he was at work. It was the way that most families managed their households if they didn't want a full time slave crew in their home. A watchful overseer would ensure that nothing was damaged or broken by clumsy slave cleaners.

"Can I be of assistance, sir?" Eduardo asked, glad of the opportunity to prove his worth. If the overseer spoke with his Master he would be able to mention that Eduardo had been of use. It might be a start.

"I'm not here for you, boy." The man replied. 

"I could help, sir." Eduardo replied, trying not to plead but wanting to earn his keep.

"A boy like you? Help me?" The man scoffed. "You're lucky that your Master lets you out of the bedroom. Or don't you do it for him anymore?"

Eduardo felt the blush rise, he should have outgrown embarrassment as a slave but this was not something he was used to dealing with. He knew that a question from his direct superior meant that he had to answer or face punishment but it was not something Eduardo felt comfortable dealing with.

"My master has not expressed an interest in being served in that way." Eduardo tried to remain diplomatic.

The overseer laughed at that. Eduardo swallowed the anger as he had been taught and tried to think of what his Master would want him to do. He didn't know his Master well so he relied on his training to remain obedient and respectful to all his superiors.

"I can see why," the overseer said, "for a start a boy like you should be naked and you shouldn't be hidden in the kitchen. You need to be waiting for him by the front door when he comes in from work."

The overseer looked over Eduardo, considering him as if he were a piece of meat - Eduardo supposed that in some ways he was, but it didn't make him feel comfortable with the assessment.

"Guy like Zuckerberg works hard and plays hard, he would want a pretty little thing like you ready and waiting for him when he gets home; you don't have to make an effort if you have a slave to come home to. Anyway, I can't stand here all day yacking, those lazy kids won't work hard if I leave them to it."

With that he was gone, leaving Eduardo alone again in the kitchen. He didn't move from his spot, but listened to the sounds of the cleaning staff going through his Master's house. He felt as if he ought to be helping, but perhaps the overseer was right, maybe there were other ways he could help.

The cleaning crew left after a few hours and left Eduardo alone again.

Maybe there were other ways he could help.


	5. Mark

A bad night's sleep and being late in for a meeting (which earned him a scowl from Chris) set him up for a bad day. By six Belle was ready to escort him from the building. She was a good assistant but he really needed someone that wouldn't stand up to him so easily - perhaps one of the interns would fill in for her, they were much more easily intimidated.

Sighing Mark gathered his laptop and notes from the day's meeting and headed out of the office, glad to see the back of his overbearing assistant, and muttered that he would just carry on working when he got home.

The drive home, short as it was, was uneventful and Mark was glad that he had been able to continue working on the newsfeed glitch he had been coding as he drove. His mind was still half on the work that he had to do when he opened the front door and nearly dropped his laptop at the sight in front of him.

Eduardo, the slave Mark had almost forgotten, knelt in the hall, knees at shoulder width apart, ankles crossed beneath him with his arms and his sides. His head was bowed, chin resting on his chest and wearing nothing but his slave collar. His natural tan showed a light sheen of sweat, possibly from holding himself in such a position, but there was also a flush that Mark could not tell if it was embarrassment or desire.

"Good Evening, Master." Eduardo said without rising from his position.

"Eduardo?" Mark asked. "What the hell...?"

"I'm sorry, Master." Eduardo said, not moving from his position. "I thought..." He paused when Mark reached out toward him and Mark could tell there was a minute flinch at the approach. 

Mark had meant only to offer comfort, but as his hand settled on Eduardo's lowered head he realised that this was not a problem that would be so easily fixed by a few kind words. Years of conditioning had lead Eduardo to this place.

Mark was about to speak, trying to think of the words to say when he saw a familiar car pull into his driveway and panicked at the thought of Dustin walking on on he and Eduardo with Eduardo in this state of undress.

"It's okay, Eduardo," Mark replied. "You have nothing to be sorry for, it was just a shock."

"Yes, Master." Eduardo said, although his tone told Mark that he was not convinced.

"Why don't you go and get dressed and wait for me upstairs," Mark said. "I think we need to talk about a few things."

Eduardo nodded, standing and heading upstairs. He paused a few steps up and Mark remembered his thought that he needed to be more direct.

"Wait in my study." Mark said, thinking that there were already enough complications without having Eduardo waiting and naked in his bedroom (although the thoughts that gave him were something Mark didn't want to explore.)

"Mark, Belle said you had left for the afternoon and...Holy Shit!" Dustin said as he approached and, Mark assumed, witnessed the naked Eduardo heading upstairs.

"What do you want, Dustin?" Mark asked.

"Chris mentioned you were getting a slave, he didn't tell me it was that sort of slave!"

"Dustin..." Mark said, rapidly losing his patience and hoping his friend would get to the point. That evening had already lead to more complications than Mark wanted to deal with and the last thing he needed on top of that was Dustin adding to Chris’ ire.

"Oh, right." Dustin said. "I think I've solved the newsfeed issue, I wanted to talk it through with you, but I can totally e-mail you the code."

"You're here now..." Mark replied.

"Yeah, but..." Dustin paused, his arms waving toward the staircase.

"Eduardo can wait."

"Seriously?" Dustin asked incredulously.

Mark thought of the scared look on Eduardo's face as he had headed up the stairs, no doubt expecting to be punished despite Mark's reassurances, and he wondered if it was fair to keep him waiting. Mark was not used to having to worry about other people's feelings, most of his employees knew how he was, but Mark was not certain how to deal with the slave.

"You're right. E-mail it to me."

Dustin whooped and Mark tried to remember why they were still friends. He hated to think what rumours Dustin would have spread around the office by the time he got in the next morning. 

"I'll see myself out." Dustin said, closing the door.

Mark took a deep breath and started up the stairs toward his study.

***

When Mark entered his study Eduardo, who was still naked, was kneeling next to the desk. He trembled slightly, whilst fighting to hold his position, and Mark could see that there were tears on his face.

"I'm sorry, Master," Eduardo started as soon as Mark entered. There was a hitch in his voice as he spoke the words. "I..."

"It's okay, Eduardo." Mark said, going to sit on the sofa. "Can you come over here? I would like to speak with you."

Eduardo nodded, shuffling a few feet on his knees instead of standing. 

There was a blanket/throw over the back that Chris had bought him when he first moved in and Mark took it now and wrapped it around Eduardo's shoulders. Eduardo instinctively took the ends and covered himself, which Mark was glad of. He could not think with a naked Eduardo spread out before him.

"What made you think you had to do that, Eduardo?" Mark asked.

Eduardo swallowed, still not looking up, and then spoke.

"The overseer said a boy like me should be naked, not hidden in the kitchen, and waiting by the front door when you came in from work." Eduardo said. "Master, I didn't know when you would be in, but I waited..."

"Which overseer?" Mark asked, thinking that the supervisors at Facebook might have a different opinion of him than he would have liked.

"He was with the cleaners, Master." Eduardo replied dutifully. "I offered to help but he told me that wasn't my place."

Mark could hear a slight hint of desperation in Eduardo's voice and he realised that was part of the problem. Mark tried to put himself in Eduardo's position and realised that he would be trying to look for his role within the household. Mark kicked himself for giving way to his own embarrassment and not dealing with Eduardo sooner. He clearly had no idea how to handle having a slave.

"Perhaps I made a mistake in bringing you here," Mark said, thinking aloud. "I don't know the first thing about owning slaves beyond employing them at the offices."

"I'm sorry, Master." Eduardo replied, the alarm growing in his voice now. "I will accept whatever punishment you deem necessary to correct my behaviour, but please do not reassign me again."

"Were conditions really that bad at the office?" Mark asked, concerned that he may have overlooked the treatment of his work-slaves.

"No, Master," Eduardo replied. "They treat us fairly, but to be reassigned three times in one month...I know I am disobedient, but I can do better."

Mark realised then how little he knew about slaves. He had seen the welts Eduardo received from Sean Parker's punishment, even now he could see the faded marks on Eduardo's back, another infraction would certainly earn him further punishment or ridicule. Mark did not want Eduardo to pay for his mistakes.

"I'm not sending you away, Eduardo." Mark said. "I just think we need to think a bit about your role here."

Eduardo looked up briefly, his eyes still shining with tears showed a hope that Mark rarely saw and then as if he had remembered himself he bowed his head again.

"Look at me, Eduardo." Mark said softly.

Eduardo looked up, the alarm back in his eyes, and Mark wished the slave was not so easily jumpy.

"You don't have to look away from me, Eduardo." Mark said. "I want you to look at me when I'm talking to you."

"Yes, Master." Eduardo replied, holding his gaze. 

Mark was thinking about the rules, about a role for Eduardo when he was interrupted by a low growl from Eduardo's stomach.

"I'm sorry, Master." Eduardo mumbled.

"Have you eaten?" Mark asked.

Eduardo shook his head, his face falling again before remembering he was to look at Mark, at his Master, when speaking to him.

"I took some water, but didn't have food." Eduardo said. "I know better than that, Master."

"Well," Mark said. "We'd better get something inside you."

Mark cringed at the implied double entendre, but Eduardo didn't react and Mark was grateful for that. Mark really wasn't sure what it was about Eduardo that unsettled him so much. 

"I don't cook but I can make sandwiches."

Mark headed downstairs, beckoning Eduardo to follow. When they reached the kitchen he saw Eduardo's slave uniform neatly folded at the back door slave entrance.

"You get dressed and I'll make us some food." Mark said, trying not to make too much over the fact that Eduardo was still naked.

When he was dressed Mark coaxed Eduardo to sit at the counter with him to eat. 

Mark tried not to look too closely at Eduardo's full lips as he devoured the food.

***

“Thank you, Master.” Eduardo said softly as he finished his sandwich. Mark felt a pang of guilt as he saw how Eduardo had cleared his plate. It was obvious that the boy had not eaten in a while and the tone when he said that he had known better than to take food had made Mark realise how dependent on an owner a slave really was.

“We should lay down some ground rules.” Mark said, thinking aloud as he often did when he was nervous.

“Yes, Master.” Eduardo agreed, and whilst his expression was guarded it was clear that there was a hint of relief when Mark had mentioned rules.

Mark realised at that moment that a slave, like a computer programme, needed rules to function. It seemed easier for him to plan what to do now he had the analogy to work with.

“Well, first of all you should feel free to eat or drink when you get hungry.” Mark said. “I can’t always be here to make it, or give permission – which you don’t need by the way – so you should have what you need.”

Mark paused for a moment, thinking and then continued.

“That goes for sleeping and other things...” Mark continued, waving vaguely toward the bathroom with a hope that Eduardo would understand him and that he wouldn’t have to go through the humiliation of explaining bathroom breaks or using the shower. “You don’t need permission for that either.”

“Thank you, Master.” Eduardo said.

Mark tried to gauge the reaction but it was obvious that his slave, other than being slightly relieved that he was not being sent away, was guarding his personal feelings. Mark supposed that if Eduardo had been around Sean during one of his more erratic or manic episodes then he would probably be careful not to show too much emotion. Mark knew that Sean could be irrationally cruel at times, and he worried that Eduardo may have taken the brunt of one of his business partner’s darker moods. 

“I’m not sure what else to say.” Mark said, feeling the need to fill the silence. 

Eduardo unnerved him in a way that Mark found it difficult to describe, he had initially put it down to the fact that he had not shared his living space with anyone since Harvard but it was much more than that. He made Mark feel off-kilter in the way that no one since Erica had and it was not something that Mark liked to think about.

“May I clear the dishes, Master?” Eduardo asked.

“Yes, please.” Mark said, glad to give Eduardo something to do and also to get some time to regroup.

Eduardo cleared the counter wordlessly and left Mark to his own thoughts, not that he really knew what to think. Mark was not known for his people skills but it seemed that his aloof nature would not work with Eduardo who was relying on him to make the decisions for both of them.

When Eduardo returned and wavered between the sink and the kitchen doorway Mark took note and spoke before Eduardo could again drop to his knees.

“Let’s get you settled in,” Mark said with decisiveness. Eduardo obviously didn’t feel comfortable in his home and Mark could see why if he didn’t know where anything is. “You’ve seen the kitchen and the study, but perhaps I should give you a tour and show you your room.”

“My room?” Eduardo asked, the idea clearly startling him enough to drop the title he insisted on calling Mark.

“Yes, Wardo,” Mark replied, a small smile playing on his lips as he realised that the reaction from Eduardo was slight shock and surprise. “Your room.”

As they walked through the house Mark pointed out the items that he thought Eduardo might need to know about and that Mark could remember (he wasn’t ashamed to admit to most people that Chris had chosen and decorated most of the furnishings in the house). When they reached the eastern facing rooms Mark picked out one of the spare bedrooms and opened the door.

“This is your room.” Mark said, trying to make it sound as though he had not just decided this on a whim. For the first time Mark was glad that he had allowed Chris to talk him into furnishing all of the rooms as there was a bed frame and mattress with a small chest of drawers and what Chris had called an armoire.

“Thank you, Master.” Eduardo said and Mark was sure that he could see tears welling in his slave’s eyes.

Mark swallowed the lump in his throat and turned toward the door.

“Goodnight, Wardo.”

“Goodnight Master.”

It was only as he closed the door that Mark realised that was the second time that night that he had shortened the boy’s name. Wardo. Mark liked it. It suited the boy much better than his formal name.

He hoped that Wardo liked it too.

***


	6. Eduardo

Eduardo was overwhelmed by the events of the evening, his Master had come home and found him waiting in a position that Eduardo had hoped would be to his liking and despite not wanting him in that way he had treated him in the way Eduardo had heard pampered slaves were treated. Eating at the counter with his Master, being served by him and given the freedom to eat, drink and sleep when he wanted – Eduardo knew this was not a life without costs but it would be a different one none the less and he could not help but think about what the overseer at Facebook had told him; this was an opportunity for Eduardo to make something of his life, to find a position for himself, and that was something that he needed to focus on.

Taking a moment to get his bearings he sat on the bed and surveyed the room that he had been told was his. In the back of his mind Eduardo knew that it didn’t really belong to him, nothing ever would, but it was nice for his master to give him a place to be whilst he was here. If he behaved well he would not have to spend another night on the cold kitchen floor.

The bed, larger than any he had ever had in a service dormitory, was comfortable and dressed with sheets and blankets that matched the light décor of the room. There was a small unit which Eduardo assumed would be for his replacement uniforms, and anything else he might need – he had heard that personal slaves often received small gifts from their owners if they did a good job.

There was another door which stood slightly ajar and Eduardo could see that it led to a bathroom, an en-suite bathroom was rare for slave quarters but Eduardo realised that this was not a house designed with having slaves in mind – or at least not upstairs. He wanted to explore the freedoms that his master had given him and was reminded that he didn’t need permission or a timetable for his ablutions. 

Stepping into the bathroom Eduardo could see that he would no longer have to share a shower with the other slaves or use the homogeneous unscented soap that was used by menial slaves that was purchased on consignment along with the other cleaning supplies that they used on the building. There was a selection of soaps and other toiletries that Eduardo assumed he could use, but when he saw the rest of the toiletries his heart stopped.

Stupid.

He should have realised that having a room of his own was not for his own comfort but more so for his master. The condoms and lubricant were not something that Eduardo had used regularly but he knew them well enough. His room would not only be for his use but would be for his master to visit when he wanted to use Eduardo – no, not Eduardo, for his master had already given him a new name – Wardo. A pet name for his Master’s new pet whore and he had accepted it gratefully.

Wardo knew that he had no room to protest. He had let himself believe for a brief moment that he was not here for that, but he should have known that it was not that his service was not required just that his Master did not need him waiting at the door when he got home. His master could have Wardo whenever he wanted him, that was the reason to keep a slave locked away in your house – he didn’t need to put him out on display.

This was his life now and he had to have known that this new life and the opportunities that it would lead to would come at a price. He could not complain that he was expected to pay it.

Eduardo washed himself as best he could and placed the condoms and lubricant next to the bed before laying back to wait for his Master. He fell asleep a while later, assuming that his master would wake him if he was required.

When morning came Eduardo breathed a small sigh of relief but knew that he had only to wait for his master to come for him.


	7. Mark

Mark was glad he had cleared the air with Eduardo the night before because it meant that he could go into work content in the knowledge that his slave at least knew the basics and was, to the best of his ability, able to care for himself. 

Mark was barely able to care for himself; it wasn’t that he wasn’t capable, more that he was so busy with Facebook that he sometimes overlooked things like personal hygiene or eating in place of things that really mattered – like ensuring that Facebook never succumbed to the daily onslaught of hackers, phishers and DDoS attacks. 

Logically Mark should have been more reliant on slaves than he was, but there was always personal assistants or interns looking to get a step ahead to take care of things at work and the truth was that Mark had never really been around slaves to know what to do with one in practical terms.

At home his parents had wanted their children to be self-reliant and not cosseted simply because their parents worked hard. When he had gone to Harvard and moved into Kirkland they had rarely used dorm slaves because of Chris’ sensibilities on the issue (although Mark was fairly certain that Dustin had arranged for a slave to cover his part of the chores rota that Chris drew up for them). 

Mark had used an estate management team to set up the house and a cleaning team to maintain it but they went largely unnoticed and came during the day when Mark was at work. Now that Mark had a personal slave he had to admit that he didn’t know the first thing about owning someone else and didn’t know how to deal with Eduardo beyond the obvious basic human needs they had covered the night before.

As he sat at his desk staring at his laptop, Mark wondered who he could ask about owning slaves; he didn’t really have a lot of friends and it wasn’t something he could ask the interns about – especially as he heard the grumblings from them that Mark already thought of them as little more than slaves.

Chris had made his feelings on the issue abundantly clear and would rather watch Mark suffer than offer him help.

Sean was obviously out, not because he didn’t have experience but because Mark had seen already how he dealt with slaves assigned to him and Mark did not want that for Wardo. Not anymore.

Dustin, although having some experience in that area, was a definite no-go if Mark ever wanted to be able to look him in the face again. Especially after the eyeful of Wardo he had received when he had called over.

Peter Thiele, who Mark knew to have an extensive harem of personal slaves, was out as were all of his other partners or investors because Mark could not appear weak in front of them. 

Mark realised that he had a relatively short list of friends to draw upon, and lawsuits (and the ensuing press coverage) had ruined his chances of making new friends anytime soon.

It was the thought of lawsuits that finally got his mind working. There had been a girl he had met during the lawsuits who had no problem in speaking the truth to Mark. He wondered if she, or the firm that employed her at least, had slaves and if she would know what to do. If nothing else she would be bound by attorney-client privilege not to speak about Mark’s lack of experience.

“Belle,” Mark called, not even looking up to see if his assistant was there before continuing. “I need you to get Marianne Delphy from OHS on the phone for me.”

“Do you mean Marylin Delpy?” Belle asked, in her tone that told him she knew he was wrong but it was above her pay grade to call him on it. “Should I conference in legal?”

“I don’t care what her name is, I paid that company enough not to care.” Mark replied, “And no, I don’t need legal. This is personal.”

Belle knew Mark well enough to know not to ask what personal calls he would be making to an associate at the law firm that had settled the case with ConnectU. He was pretty sure that by the end of the day Chris would hear he was dating the law student.

When the phone connected and Belle insisted on putting him through to Marylin he started by asking if the conversation was privilege, once she heard that it was a billable call Marylin seemed to perk up.

Within twenty minutes (for which Mark was sure he would be billed an hourly rate) she had outline a few things to go over and booked a meeting in for the next day.

Slave ownership, as it turned out, was a lot more complicated than Mark had thought possible.

**Author's Note:**

> Original Prompt: AU where slavery is accepted and Mark in takes slave!Wardo in because he feels sorry for him. Mark is aloof and awkward and doesn't really know what to do with Wardo, who's been through so much abuse in his life.
> 
> http://tsn-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/10450.html?thread=20783570#t20783570
> 
> Non-con flag for consent issues implied by genre and for mostly off-screen content.


End file.
